


Ineffable Lovebirds

by katiemakesart



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 05:07:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiemakesart/pseuds/katiemakesart
Summary: Throughout everything they’d been through, they’d done it together. Crowley and Aziraphale- Angel and Angel-Turned-Demon. An unlikely, no, impossible duo by all odds, yet somehow no matter how much time, how much distance was set between them, they always managed to come together.





	Ineffable Lovebirds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ProfessorFlowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorFlowers/gifts).

> Written for @professorflowers's Ineffable Lovebirds Reverse Good Omens AU (less-than-three bbyyyy) let me know what you think I'll probably??? Keep going???

**4004 B.C. • Creation**

The relationship between the demon who would come to be known as Zira and the angel that went by Crowley began with the earth- in Eden, the sacred garden herself, with a certain Tree of Knowledge. The forbidden fruit had already doomed the human race, and it now claimed its second victim-

Aziraphale- the angel sent to guard the Eastern Gate.

He didn’t remember eating the fruit actually, he didn’t remember much of anything. At that moment, his entire existence was more an _ awareness _ . Aziraphale was _ aware _ that he had been an angel, he was _ aware _ that he froliced and worshipped in Heaven above, and now the blonde man was painfully _ aware _ that he had fallen.

He had taken a tumble from Grace, and he’d been utterly crushed under the realization that those memories were gone, that he would never know what once was. What could have been. 

Aziraphale didn’t remember his fall, didn’t fully remember what came before, but he could only dream of forgetting what was to follow.

The first thing he noticed was the memory loss- though perhaps memory loss wasn’t the correct term. No, Aziraphale hadn’t lost only his memory, he’d lost _ himself _. Everything he was, everything he’d ever known stripped away in a matter of seconds- minutes- days? With no recollection it was impossible to tell. All he knew was the vague picture- he had been an angel, he had been sent to guard the Eastern Gate, and now he was cast from Heaven. 

Next, it was the physical changes. A sudden weight on either side of his head drew the ex-angel to the nearest pool of water. Obsidian eyes widened as he met his reflection, a soft gasp escaping his lips at the sight he was met with. His clothing was the same, or at least, he _ felt _ that it was- a simple white tunic featuring a simple design with light blue stitching on the edges. His hair was as white-blonde as he ever remembered, soft tufts at the crown rising toward heaven itself. His body remained unchanged, cheeks still rather cherub-like and overall form directed toward the soft side of a human male corporation.

It wasn’t what was the _ same _ that had the angel staring in horror, however. For starters, his wings- the angelic staples connected at his shoulder blades- were different. To the untrained eye there would be no difference from any run-of-the-mill angel, but Aziraphale noticed his wings beginning to molt and his feathers were replaced with new, off-white plumage. Perhaps even stranger still, another pair of wings had sprouted on his head: two small appendages protruding with soft feathers sticking out haphazardly; clearly he needed a preening, but quite frankly that was the last thing he had to worry over. His eyes were completely black, pupils almost impossible to discern from his irises, and his fingernails seemed to default at a much longer length than seemed necessary. He stared, not long enough for vanity, but to take in his changes before sitting back and contemplating. He tried to remember the details, wanted to figure out just what he’d done and why, but after what felt like hours he figured that simply sitting around just wouldn’t do- angel or not.

First, he needed a purpose.

The fallen celestial had decided he would take to tending the plants. Just because he was no longer an angel, didn’t mean he couldn’t see to the vegetation. It was peaceful, and certainly something to keep his mind and hands occupied while he waited. After all, at this point there was nothing he _ could _ do but wait, right?

Unfortunately for Aziraphale, simply falling hadn’t been _ enough _, at least, not for Heaven. No, the humans had already ruined everything, threatened to taint the beautiful earth they had been blessed by the Creator. The angels were confused, irate, upset- and who else to take it up on than the one who was supposed to be preserving the utopia She created?

“There you are.”

It was a growl, the last type of tone one would expect to hear in Paradise. Before the new demon had a chance to turn, it was far too late - he'd been forced down by two winged figures, holding each arm against the ground with an immovable strength. A third approached and exchanged a look with the other two that could only be described as a cross between disguised and vengeful.

“Stop! What are you-“ he started, tone panicked as dark optics shot between the three figures.

“Silence!”

A shiver racked the blonde’s spine and his body froze as the ex-angel's gaze finally rested upon the man above him. They were all clad in the same robes as Aziraphale, though with different markings he assumed must’ve dictated some sort or hierarchy. The man drew a blade, pointing it directly into the blonde’s face and Aziraphale’s eyes widened, the wings at the sides of his head flapping frantically.

“Aziraphale. The fruit of knowledge is _ forbidden _,” the man’s voice boomed, “even to angels!”

“W-wait! I don’t- I didn’t know,” Aziraphale screeched, his voice pleading as he attempted to lean forward, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry! I’m-“

“For your insolence- your inability to perform your duties, Aziraphale- you must be punished.”

“No- Please, I didn’t,” he sobbed as the blade moved closer to his face. The angel pressed the tip of his sword into the side of his mouth and for the first time as a low chuckle resounded from the sword-welder’s chest and a line of red followed in the tip of the blade’s wake, Aziraphale was introduced to the true ruthlessness of Heaven.

“Open your mouth.”

He clenched his eyes shut, attempted to turn his head away from the unfolding scene as blood began to trickle down his lips. Surely this all had to be a terrible visage- a trick by other demons, perhaps. The angels to his sides exchanged a rather amused look, eyebrows high on their forehead as they tightened their grip with a giggle. 

Suddenly, the angel to his right was gripping his jaw, yanking it down to force Azirphale’s mouth open and the angel to his left was tangling a hand into his hair, pulling his head back and face toward the heavens. He was completely open, unable to struggle- at this rate, he didn’t even think a miracle could save him.

“Mhnn- mmmph!” Overflowing onyx pools were met with a wide smirk from the leader, an almost mocking eyebrow high as he seemed to savor the moment. The ex-angel attempted to beg, to plead, thrash, _ anything _ to be let go as tears and blood trailed down his face.

The last thing he would ever taste was blood. The angel slowly slid the blade into the blonde’s mouth, careful to avoid the corners of his lips- after all, there was no need to sully Her beautiful planet with more blood than necessary. Aziraphale’s whimpers quickly turned to gargled screams as the steel plunged under his tongue, breaking through his flesh like a shovel into fresh soil. The angel worked slowly, almost gingerly as he pressed the blade deeper and scooped upward, tilting the sword back and forth as he gouged the ex-angel’s tongue from his mouth. The figures at his sides hardened their grip as his shrieks turned to coughs while his mouth filled with blood. Though it felt like an eternity for Aziraphale, it was but a few minutes until he was tossed to the ground, his tongue a trophy for the angels who had punished the one who allowed the fall of humanity.

“I hope it was worth it, Demon,” the leader spat, flicking the blood from his blade back on the ex-angel’s trembling form as the other two stood to join him. “You can show yourself out!” They exchanged another laugh before disappearing, leaving Aziraphale a trembling pile of blood and limbs, his hands rising to cover the blood pouring from his lips, his entire world turned red in the glow of the setting sun.

Not that he could particularly tell, his vision clouded with tears as sobs racked his entire body.

He didn’t remember what happened after that- he assumed the unbearable pain must’ve caused him to pass out. He vaguely recalled waking to the pain throughout the night, only to have it increased tenfold when all of the memories of his personal hell came rushing back and he again let sleep take him with a fit of quiet sobs and tear-streaked cheeks. After what seemed like an eternity, dark, pupil-less eyes were opening and he was finally met with a new day, as well as a rather interested looking red bird that curiously hopped closer to inspect his form.

Aziraphale curled in on himself, clenched his eyes shut as the nightmare came rushing back and the sound of leaves rustling alerted him to another creature, one that was much bigger than any of the animals he’d seen thus far. Surely it had to be one of the celestials, they would be coming back to finish the job- after all, angels _ rarely _ forgot to finish what they started. The demon felt his pulse quicken and his breaths began to escape in quick puffs as scenarios passed his mind’s eye about what else they could do before offering the sweet release of death. He buried his bill into his feathers, and pulled his feet beneath his body as he attempted to completely disappear within himself. 

Wait- feathers? A bill?

It was then that he noticed he no longer had the body that She had made of him- or the body that She had made and then he had warped by his fall. No, now the ethereal-turned-occult being had transformed into some sort of bird. If it weren’t for the fact that he was likely about to be finished off for his choices, perhaps the blonde would’ve considered it further- explored just _ what _ he had become. 

But certainly there was no point if he was about to be killed, was there? The ex-angel’s breathing became even more difficult, he once again began to tremble, clots in his mouth cracked to again fill the spot where his tongue was supposed to be with blood- and just like that he passed out again with the world’s first panic attack. 

It was with that moment, however, that proved a turning point where another chapter in his story began. You see, in Aziraphale’s life there are distinct fragments: Before the Fall, the Fall, and then there’s the angel, Crowley.

The aforementioned celestial had been placed in the garden following Aziraphale’s displacement. It had all been very sudden- the redhead spent the day as any angel normally did, keeping a watchful amber eyes on his little corner of the universe, performing miracles where needed, and slacking off for a fair amount of stargazing.

Alpha Centauri truly was his favorite - twinkling stars, the nebulae- truly gorgeous. Then again, perhaps he was biased as he was given a hand in creating it.

He was rather obnoxiously ripped from his daydreams as he was summoned for a sudden meeting with the Archangels. The process by which Heaven summoned an angel was quite _ literally _ that- a summoning. One moment he was gazing at the stars, imagining the stardust floating around him, colored light passing through dust clouds, scattering in a chroma kaleidoscope. The next moment he had been dropped into a chair- particularly a deceitful office chair that at first glance appeared comfortable but became painful after a few minutes.

Now, Crowley wasn’t _ that _ low down on the proverbial totem poll, but it wasn’t often he was called to meetings with those who spoke directly to God Herself. The angel blinked, amber orbs glancing around the figures seated around the table in an almost painfully white room. Clearly they’d been awaiting his arrival.

Everything after that felt like a blur. He was briefed on his mission: essentially he was to be Heaven’s representative on earth. He was to observe the humans, report back, and generally do all he could to perform miracles that would push the world toward a much more wholesome outcome.

Of course, that also meant thwarting any sinful antics that Crowley came across- _ especially _ if it were a demon. After all, with this new world came new demonic enemies.

He took note, accepted his mission, and was quickly sent on his way- by on his way, he was thrown from the chair faster than he’d arrived and plopped right in the center of the Garden of Eden. Heaven certainly didn’t waste any time- not that he didn’t already _ know _ as much, but experiencing the _ efficiency _ from above firsthand was always an affair he would prefer to stay out of. In this particular case, one moment he was signing documents in a meeting room, the next the floor seemed to open up beneath his feet. A rush of air swept past his face and with a sudden snap he was brought along with the sunrise into the midst of foliage and animals of every shape, size, and color.

Crowley’s first and foremost plan was to find his own bearings. He had been issued a body, one that currently felt like it was going to eject all of its contents right in the middle of paradise. Though he wanted to inspect the beauty surrounding him, instead he stumbled slightly before leaning against a tree to catch his breath. The greenery above him was spinning, his stomach was churning, and he made his first mental note to request a _ warning _ before such a trip in the future. The angel glanced around and found a rather relieved sigh escaping his lips as he caught a glimpse of a stream. He rushed over, dropping to his knees and cupping his hands for water, carefully taking a few sips before splashing some onto his face.

The redhead paused, gazing at himself in the crystal clear water below. Red hair pulled over his shoulder in a braid, amber eyes sporting white pupils, grandiose wings, white tunic with red stitching- everything appeared to be in accordance with his celestial appearance. Even the angelic symbols that adorned his body appeared as golden marks that wrapped around his collar and up his neck. At the very least, it was nice to know such a trip did nothing more to alter his appearance than unsettle ruby locks that framed his face and fell over his forehead.

With a soft hum he sat back and took in a breath of crisp air, finally allowing himself to take in the utter magnificence of the Garden. This truly was paradise: the weather was a perfect temperature, warm enough to avoid a chill, yet cool enough not to risk any sort of overheating and the air was utterly _ refreshing _. Emerald green and vivid colors were everywhere: in the grass, the trees, plants, even the animals- it was almost as if the Garden itself was flaunting, working its hardest to show how well it could grow for its Creator. Squirrels, deer, and other small mammals cast a curious eye toward the angel but didn’t make any effort to scurry, seemingly content to co-exist with the new creature. Birds of every color flew overhead, weaving between the treetops, playfully dipping and diving as they created a moving painting against the sky. Then of course there was the stream, the lifeblood of the Garden that babbled, seemingly speaking its own language as cerulean ripples flowed, encouraging life in anything it touched.

Complete and utter bliss. What would make the humans want to leave a place like this?

Crowley pulled his knees to his chest and just granted himself the chance to enjoy the silence, almost overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of it all to the point that even _ he _ didn’t want to leave Paradise. Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed such luxuries and as the sun threatened to cross the midsection of the sky, he finally stood, and started on his way. 

The celestial didn’t get very far as his attention was suddenly directed to frantic chirping. Ruby eyebrows furrowed and a rather puzzled look overtook his features as he changed his direction toward the noise. Before he could take more than a couple steps, a little red bird with black markings suddenly popped out of a bush, practically flying into the angel’s face. 

“Ah!” Crowley yelped, jumping back and successfully scaring the creature as if it didn’t seem to be expecting to find someone so soon. “You need to watch where you’re going, little one,” the angel scolded over the chirping, eyebrows furrowing, “what could have you so upset in Paradise?”  
  
The bird landed atop Crowley’s head and tilted its head down at him, almost as if it were making an attempt to size him up. “Did the humans feed you? You seem especially friendly-” he began before the bird cut him off with a few hops to the top of his head. The angel stopped, expression utterly confused as it dismounted and flew forward before encircling overhead. Crowley stared for a moment, worrying his lip as he attempted to piece together what exactly this creature was doing when it suddenly hit like a thousand pounds of bricks- or perhaps a thousand pounds of feathers.

“Do.. Are you wanting me to follow you?”

The bird trilled excitedly and flew back in the direction it came from, almost as if it were calling for the angel as it soared. Crowley hesitated a moment, quite unsure of what was happening before throwing caution to the wind and running after the little red creature. It led him along the stream, past bushes and trees, practically screaming at him the entire time. The angel was almost ready to turn around and give up on whatever wild chase this bird felt the desire to bring him on- perhaps this was a demon’s work already- when he caught a glimpse of crimson sullying the foliage below.

The angel halted, pausing to kneel down and inspect the spot below. The bird didn’t seem to notice, her chirps quieting but not silencing as she increased their distance- likely reaching her destination. A million thoughts suddenly rushed through his head: was this an animal? Had the humans been hurt leaving the garden? Was this something else entirely? Surely it couldn’t be any sort of trap- the earth wasn’t dangerous yet, after all. 

Crowley stood, swallowing hard as a ball of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. With slow, deliberate steps he moved toward the chirping, pushing vines and leaves out of his way, careful to look out for any sort of traps or ambushes as the crimson spots thickened and became more prevalent.

Finally he emerged into a clearing alongside the stream. The first thing he noticed was the sheer _ amount _of blood, and that was because it took but a glance to see just how much there was. The verdant garden floor was littered with pools of blood- some clearly newer than others. He swallowed hard as he quickly turned his attention to the bird, frantically chirping as it hopped up and down on the ground next to a rather large white pile of feathers stained with red.

Another bird?  
  
Crowley didn’t have time to consider it as he rushed forward and knelt next to the creature. After all, this was one of God’s creatures, and it was now his job care for each one. Amber orbs quickly inspected the bird, a rather large swan, and he visibly relaxed as he confirmed it was at the very least still alive. Upon closer investigation he found its breathing to be shallow, but other than seeming to have been a little put out, it at the very least didn’t appear to have any life threatening injuries, but he was certain it was the source of all the blood.

“You poor thing…” He let out a rather heavy sigh and readjusted the swan so that its head rested on his lap and gingerly stroked its feathers. For now the humans could wait- after all, how much trouble could they really get into? Unless this _ had _ been part of their trouble- but they’d only eaten from the tree.. Surely they wouldn't do something like this.The angel briefly set aside the thought and glanced up to the little red bird who settled down beside him, seemingly pleased with his treatment and he offered a hesitant smile.

“Don’t worry, darling. We’ll get your friend fixed up in no time.”

Quite a bit of time had passed and Crowley’s concern for the bird was growing by the minute. He wanted to inspect the swan’s mouth, to figure out just what was causing the crimson stain to so much of its plumage, but he feared that any sort of interference would either frighten or anger the creature, were his actions to rouse it. He let out a soft sigh, and turned back to the little red bird he deemed a cardinal in the time he wasn’t worrying over her larger counterpart. “I fear your companion might be worse than I could have thought,” he began, quite unsure if he should take any steps further in its care. The angel had barely finished his sentence when the swan’s eyes cracked open, and it was then that utter chaos ensued.

Everything felt warm. Aziraphale couldn’t remember a moment since he fell that he felt this warm- this _ comforted _, as if he were completely enveloped in pleasantries. He nuzzled his head farther into the soft fabric beneath him and took in a deep breath of a sweet, almost wood-like scent. The ex-angel slowly cracked his eyes, ready to wake up from the plaguing nightmare when he was instead met by two amber eyes staring down at him with an expression of concern melded with confusion. 

All at once three things happened: Aziraphale realized he had been resting his head on not just _ any _ soft surface but an angel’s lap, proceeded to scramble away, and changed back into his corporal form.

Crowley, meanwhile, could do nothing but watch, equally confused, as what he had thought been another of God’s animals in the garden was actually one of God’s angels- or fallen angels, from what it appeared. None of that mattered at the moment, as the point was that this creature was in _ pain _ and Crowley was here to _ help _.

“Ah, so you _ aren’t _ a regular swan then,” the angel confirmed, more to himself than Aziraphale.

The demon fell back, eyes fearful and glued to the angel as he scooted away, a soft whimper emerging from his throat. 

“Are you alright, darling? There’s so much blood- can you tell me what happened?” Crowley moved to his knees, voice soft as he kept his distance. Surely whatever this creature had been through was rather traumatizing- an assumption that was quickly confirmed as tears began to once again pool at the corners of onyx orbs.

Was this another angel just here to finish the job? Aziraphale was again reliving his nightmare- being surrounded, pinned down, his voice stolen. After the momentary shock of this new arrival, all at once the pain came rushing back, burning his mouth and throat like hellfire- or what the ex-angel could only _ imagine _ was hellfire. It was impossible to withhold the soft hiccups and whines as the tears flowed and the wings at the sides of his head fluttered, attempting to hide himself from the pain and man before him. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you….” Crowley trailed off, unsure what to think about this whole situation- clearly this creature was hurting, but was it safe? Would he simply make this worse? With a soft sigh he threw caution to the wind and closed the distance between them, pulling the ex-angel into a gentle hug. After all, he _ was _ an angel. It only made sense to comfort- it was one of the things they were supposed to know best.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Crowley cooed. “Whatever happened it’s gone… I’m here now.”

  
Aziraphale hesitated, his body tensed, and he sniffled softly as the redhead pushed himself closer. This absolutely couldn’t be happening- there was no way this angel wasn’t simply going to strike him down, or find some other way to exile him, or even taunt further. Surely this redhead knew of what had befallen the blonde and was only going to rub dirt in the wound- perhaps literally as well as figuratively. However, despite Aziraphale’s worries, the worst scenarios flashing through his mind he could possibly fathom, the soft vocal tone and the gentle touch of another corporation instantly had the blonde surrendering into a mess of hiccups and sobs into the soft fabric of the angel’s shoulder.

This was his reality. He was no longer an angel, he could never eat or taste or speak or laugh again.

The entire world, existence as Aziraphale knew it was completely and utterly collapsed as he cried into this stranger’s arms. He felt soothing whispers, what he assumed to be encouraging mumbles against his hair from the redhead, but he was far too gone to care. The ex-angel wept for the pain, for experiences lost in his memories and those never to be- after all, the world had only just begun, and already he was completely ruined.

“Let it all out,” Crowley murmured, amber orbs watching drifting shut. He would hold this man as long as he needed- even longer, if that’s what it took. Slender fingers gingerly rubbed his back, tracing soothing lines up and down his spine in an attempt to further calm him down. After what seemed like a small eternity, the blonde finally began to calm. His breathing slowed, the tear stains at Crowley’s shoulder began to clear, and with a final sigh Aziraphale pulled back to rub his face with his hands.

The redhead inspected the other closely, allowing him another minute to calm down before he spoke, his voice cautious. “Uhm, would you,” He paused as the wings at the man’s head flicked and onyx orbs slowly rose to meet his gaze. “Would you mind if I take a look? Perhaps I can do something to help.”  
  
Hesitation was clear on his expression but the ex-angel offered a small nod as he readjusted his position, sitting more comfortably on the ground. If this angel was going to do something malicious, surely he would’ve done it already, after all, Heaven didn’t like to waste any time. Crowley waited patiently- they had all of the time in the world- and when the other tilted his head ever so slightly, the redhead took that as permission.

Crowley began with the ex-angel’s face. “I’m going to clean you up, okay?” He murmured, waiting for permission as to not frighten the other even more, even if it were just by getting rid of all the blood. The blonde nodded and with a gentle wave of his hand and a miracle, the mess was cleaned away and he was finally able to properly see the other’s features.

Soft, white-blonde locks framed the almost cherub-like appearance of his face. He was soft, but still rather handsome in his corporation- or at least, in the angel’s opinion. Then again, all of Her creatures were beautiful. Just because this one had fallen, why should that make any difference? He slowly brought his hands up to hold either side of the other’s face to help properly inspect what he had to work with.

The angel’s attention was first brought to the cut running vertically across the the other’s lips. Dark eyebrows furrowed together and he leaned a little closer, Crowley’s thumb pulling the skin at his cheek back ever so slightly to get a better view. Unfortunately, he must’ve gotten a little too close, as the other let out a sort of yelp from deep in his chest as the small wings began to flap, attempting to pull him away from the pain.

“Ah, sorry, I’m sorry,” Crowley apologized profusely as the blonde’s eyes again filled with tears. “I didn’t think it would be _ that _ sensitive I- here- May I?” The angel nodded, glancing between onyx orbs and the cut, making some sort of _ attempt _ to gesture that he was going to move. When the ex-angel’s eyebrows furrowed but he was given a look of understanding back, Crowley leaned in close, gingerly pressing his lips against the cut. He paused a moment, the two of them frozen- Aziraphale out of sheer apprehension and Crowley for time- as he attempted to extend his healing energy into the other. 

After a few moments, Crowley leaned back, the corners of his lips tugging upward into a small smile. “There now let’s-” amber eyes widened as he saw that absolutely nothing with the wound had changed. “What, but I-,” He began before realization suddenly crossed his face, dread building in the pit of the angel’s stomach. For a wound like that to heal so quickly but to be so painful- so sensitive- surely it couldn’t have been-

“That… Don’t tell me it was a… Celesital sword that did this?” The ex-angel’s eyes instantly filled with tears and he quickly looked away, but not before offering a solemn nod to the redhead.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered, his tone incredulous. “To fell you and _ still…” _The angel shook his head and again situated himself before the other, posture straightened with a new look of resolve on his features. Crowley gingerly took the blonde’s hand, earning a nervous flutter of wings from the other’s head and his eyes to snap back to look at the angel. 

“Listen, I can’t heal a wound from a Heavenly blade… but I can at the very least dull your pain. Will you allow me?” Amber eyes stared deep into onyx pools before he was offered another small, yet perhaps more confident nod. They resumed their position, and the angel again leaned in to press his lips to the corner of the blonde’s mouth- though this time his healing energy was meant to numb the other’s pain. Aziraphale took in a quick breath through his nose, features relaxing ever so slightly as a cooling effect began to dull the hellfire. After a moment Crowley pulled back, watching to confirm that the blonde was alright before glancing down. 

“Would you.. Open your mouth? I can help you better if I know the extent of your injuries.”  
  
Aziraphale gingerly worried his lip, hesitating a moment until he nodded. They had already gone this far, and this angel had already done so much more than he could’ve expected from any sort of Heavenly being at this point. The ex-angel slowly opened his mouth, and it took all Crowley had not to gasp in horror. 

“What has Heaven done…” He muttered more to himself than the blonde, but he swallowed any further comment or disgust- this being didn’t need any further misery at the hands of Heaven. “Alright… well, shall we?” The ex-angel nodded, his expression much more determined now that he knew the other’s abilities firsthand and he closed his eyes, leaning in for the other’s lips.

The angel blinked, an expression of surprise briefly crossing his features at the blonde’s eagerness. Nevertheless, he again brought his hands to the side of the other’s face and leaned forward, slowly pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss.

Aziraphale’s eyelashes fluttered as a rush of relief rushed past his lips, cooling and numbing the intense pain in his mouth. It wasn’t completely gone, but even just a little bit of comfort was enough to draw more tears to already exhausted onyx pools. The blonde slowly brought his hands up placing them on either side of the angel’s head as he found himself pressing forward, mouth searching for more alleviation.

Crowley’s eyes widened, again surprised by the seemingly timid creature’s actions but he stayed still. After another moment he pulled back with a soft gasp, his head rushing from a brief lack of oxygen and use of his power. “Ah… There. I’m sorry I can’t completely heal you, but I hope that was enough to at least help.”  
  
The ex-angel nodded. The pain was by no means gone, but it was still impossibly better than it had been. They sat in silence, Crowley watching for any further sign of distress, and Aziraphale simply tolerating the pain as a new exhaustion set it, the back of his mind wondering if Upstairs would catch wind and send someone else for a punishment. One minute went by, two, five- perhaps longer- of the two simply watching, waiting for _ something, anything _.

“I’m not going to leave you.”  
  
Aziraphale suddenly looked up, lips parted slightly as he offered the angel a rather shocked expression. “What, you think I’d just _ go?” _ The redhead practically looked _ offended _ . “Continue on my merry way after what they did to you? No, I need to do what they _ should’ve _ done, Swan. I’m going to make sure you’ll be safe- after all, you’re still one of Her creatures.”  
  
Aziraphale studied him closely- searching for some sort of lie but when he couldn’t find any reason, any excuse for this angel to be lying he finally nodded, nervously wringing his hands as the pain began to flare.

The redhead shifted to rest against the trunk of a tree, making himself comfortable in the midst of the grass and flowers. “C’mere, Swan. You should rest.” Aziraphale furrowed his eyebrows and fluffed the wings on his head, suspicion again rising until the other let out a rather exasperated sigh. “I told you, I’m not going! Let’s get you feeling better, shall we?”

Well, he couldn’t argue with that.

He joined the angel in the flowers and rested his head on the other’s lap, wings tucked neatly in a makeshift pillow. It wasn’t long before he found himself asleep- due to the day’s events or with help from the angel’s abilities, he would never know- nor would he particularly care. 

The ex-angel spent the next week drifting in and out of a deep slumber. Each time he awoke, the pain seemed to ebb just a bit, and he was always greeted with the curious, pupil-less eyes of the angel. “How are you feeling?” He would ask, and each time the blonde would raise his hand to a different level in the air- up high for ‘in a lot of pain’ and down low for ‘doing better.’ It wasn’t much, but for the moment it was at least _ something _.

Crowley didn’t mind guarding the other while he slept. Then again, who in any sort of proper mind would have a problem prolonging their time in Paradise? Simply listening to the planet, conversing with the animals, watching the sky change overhead- it was true bliss. Plus, the little cardinal kept him company. She seemed to rather enjoy the term ‘cardinal’ to describe her species, and began to find her own entertainment in bringing berries and sticks to the angel- gifts he eagerly accepted.

During the ex-angel’s waking moments, they tried their best to communicate. It was mostly just on the blonde’s current status, but they also worked to try to find a basic mode of communication. When speaking was clearly off-limits for the ex-angel, they tried various forms of writing, huffs, and even expressions before finally settling on using their hands. It was messy, and still took a lot of time to convey even the most basic of messages, but at the very least it was something. They managed to create messages for needing water and pain management, and it wasn’t much for them to sort out that the blonde was indeed a demon.

A little over a week had gone by and though they’d done their fair share of movement, the blonde still grew tired rather quickly. After making their way to the stream for a quick drink, they found themselves curled back up under another tree. The redhead gingerly stroked blonde locks as the ex-angel settled with his head in his lap and offered a small smile while dark orbs glanced up at him curiously. 

Suddenly Crowley froze, a look of shock crossing his features that caused the blonde to bolt upright with concern. The redhead quickly shook his head and made an attempt to lull the other back down, a nervous laugh rumbling from his chest.  
  
“No no, don’t worry, Swan. It’s nothing serious! I just- I realized we never properly introduced ourselves.”

A look of understanding passed the blonde’s features, and he let out a soft sigh, eyebrows furrowing briefly up to the other in annoyance. 

“Look, I’m sorry for surprising you, okay? I just thought there were bigger matters at hand- well it doesn’t matter the point is,” he began, rolling his shoulders back as he let out a rather incredulous laugh.  


“My name is Crowley, my dear.”

Aziraphale’s expression brightened, and he nodded, happy to have a proper name to associate with this angel. Unfortunately, he had no angelic memory of this Crowley- but then again, Heaven was a rather large place. Perhaps they never met.

“Do you think… we can figure out yours?”  
  
Aziraphale paused, expression quickly dropping into a frown. He hadn’t thought about his name at all since he’d fallen. Surely he wouldn’t keep his angelic name since he’d fallen- did he even remember his angelic name? 

Az….. Ear…. Something….

He frowned, thinking hard about it for a moment before opening his mouth and attempting to make a sound- any sound that could be close. “Ah…”  
  
Crowley’s eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head, hands moving up to take the other’s hand in his. “No- it’s okay, don’t strain yourself like that! Maybe I can help?”

  
“Ssss… eeeee….. ah...” The ex-angel hissed from back in his throat and Crowley furrowed his eyebrows, attempting to work out what the blonde was trying to say in the first ever game of charades the planet earth had ever seen.

“Ear-uh…. Zeer…. Zira?” The angel worked out after a few minutes of rather frantic guesses. The ex-angel stopped and quickly nodded, offering the other a round of applause as tears began to form in his eyes.

“Zira? Zira’s your name?!” Crowley exclaimed and threw his hands in the air, overjoyed that they’d finally come to such an important discovery.

“Zira! Well, it’s nice to _ properly _ meet you, Zira!” The angel grinned. Zira let out a rather satisfied sigh. Zira- that sounded right. It was close enough, at least. Besides, after everything that happened, he didn’t particularly _ want _ to be associated with his Heavenly persona any longer.

“Well Zira,” Crowley hummed. “We’ve got the entire world.” He gestured vaguely out toward the gates to the garden with a hum. “Shall we?”


End file.
